I’m sitting on a bed in hotel two states away from my sleeping children and my husband. Everyone is in a differe place. My husband is at our house. Our children are with my parents. I’m here getting ready for “Digital Gospel,” a conference being held here tomorrow. While I’m looking forward to being in a bed alone and no wake ups for water, binkies or stuffed animals that some how got lodged behind the bed, I also feel guilty. Really guilty.
My husband works six days a week. I know the activity level of the children can be a little demanding. I feel incredibly guilty when I leave the in his care. I feel like I should be there to help him.
Then i feel guilty for “pawning” them off on my parents. BUt the truth was, my husband has to work tomorrow and it seemed easier for them to stay with my parents rather than having to get up at the crack of dawn to be dropped off before my husband went to work.
It all made sense when we made the plans.
What doesn’t make sense is the number of times I’ve called since I left. What doesn’t make sense is how guilty I feel and how bad I feel for putting everyone else out. None of it makes sense to me. I have left them ovenight before. I know my parents don’t mind having them. I know my husband doesn’t mind me being gone. But I still feel guilty.
It’s the kind of guilt I feel when I have a day off and I drop the kids off at day care so I can get a few things done around the house. It’s the kind of guilt I feel when I just want to watch an episode of Law and Order SVU, but I’m secretly scowling as we watch the same episode of Dora the Explorer that the kids have requested every day this week. It’s the kind of guilt I feel when I can’t pet and play with my dogs as much as I want to because I’m just too busy.
It’s mommy guilt. And I have it.